Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (51 page)

“Who the fuck do you think you’re fuckin’ with?!” Saint yelled between
clamped teeth. His voice echoed throughout the parking lot as he banged their skulls together, causing one to scream out in pain while the other fell to the ground. He grabbed the hammer from the guy’s jacket, then paused and looked around. Sweat trickled down his face and the copper tang of blood invaded his mouth. The store cameras were taping the entire fucked up situation.

This is a goddamn set up…
Be cool, Saint. Play it cool.

He tossed the hammer in the car and worked his fists over the men,
dealing upper and lower cuts, making sure his fists landed in just the right spots—head, stomach and groin… He fought in a controlled, calculating way—simply defending himself.

“Ahhhh!
Fuck!” one of the men screamed out when Saint gave him a hard hitting punch to the side of the head.

“Uhhhh! Uhhhhhh! Stooooooop!”

Saint kept on, treating their bodies like meat he was trying to tenderize, until he had them on the ground. Then, a strange sensation washed over him. He geared to investigate his hunch.

“Tryna jump my ass! You two fuckas don’t know who the fuck I am…but you gonna know after tonight!” He grabbed them up by their collars,
restrained them with one hand and used the other to check for weapons. Strapped.

“I’m going to let you two keep those damn guns. No sir! You won’t find my fingerprints on them. I’ll let the police find
’em. It will make your sentence all the worse and I doubt either of you dumb fucks are card members and registered.”

He sighed with resentment. He couldn’t do what he really wanted to do to them, not in a public place
, for he had eyes on him. By this time, a small crowd had gathered to see the show. Saint looked over at them.

“Quit gawking and call the goddamn police!”  He dragged the bloodied and bruised
men over to the blue car and smashed their bodies into the side of it, then took a glance at his own car, with the alarm still blaring and a dent in the side.

“Look what the fuck you did to my baby!” He sucker punched one of the men in the mouth, making blood splatter out. Then he sandwiched them beneath him. “Y’all gone pay for this shit before the cops come!” He dug in their pockets, keeping their arms hogtied and all of his weight on their backs as the
y squealed and wiggled, cursing at him and begging. In a steath move, he removed their wallets, and without checking the contents, pushed them into his own jacket pocket.

“What the fuck?”
one of them lisped. “You robbin’ us?!”

“You shut the fuck up!” Saint yelled
back. “You fucked up my car, and you’re gonna pay for that shit. You owe me, mothafucka!  Runnin’ up on me like two fuckin’ idiots, damn two stooges, not one useful brain between you. You mothafuckas must be high! I should take the pineapples out my bag and shove ’em up your goddamn asses! Now you just wait here until the police come. It’s all on camera so don’t try to play the damn victim when they get here. Fuckin’ up my damn night with some petty robbery bullshit!” Saint was livid and couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t believe he had to fight two men in a damn Trader Joe’s parking lot. All he wanted was some fucking fruit…

Soon the blaring blue and red lights of three police cars approached
. Abdul stood at the front of the crowd now. Saint looked at him woefully. After thirty minutes, the police had Saint’s statement and would be reviewing the surveillance tape. A short and stubby white woman with dark sunglasses atop of her white, fluffy hair vouched for his story.

“I saw everything! Those two men ran up on this poor man
; he was just putting his groceries away!” she said, gesturing hysterically. “They came out of nowhere and beat on him. I saw it from the car, and locked myself inside.”

S
he sounded shaken up, frightened. Saint felt bad that she had to witness such a thing. He thanked her. She nodded and smiled weakly.

One of the guys declared that Saint had stolen their wallets. Saint denied it. The police pat
ted him down and found nothing. He knew why the damn man was afraid. Not because of his measly two hundred bucks that was inside of it, but because his I.D. was there and now, Saint would know
exactly
who they were.

The police asked
if he wanted a ride home, and he graciously refused. Once they were out of sight, he slid under the blue car and retrieved the two worn wallets he’d discretely dropped and hidden right as the police pulled up. He winced as he rubbed his hands along his bruised rib and sat in his car, still in a state of shock at the evening’s events. He looked at his cell phone and saw he’d missed a call from Xenia. Not wasting time playing her voicemail back, he called her.

“Baby…yeah,
” he said breathlessly. “I know I was taking a long time. Two guys tried to attack me out here at Trader Joe’s.”

“What?!”
Her voice rang so loud through the phone, he had to hold it away from his ear.

“Yes…
,” he talked back into it as a headache the size of Mt. Rushmore took over his temples and scalp. “I guess they were trying to rob me…but, I’m okay and the police took ’em away.”

“Saint, Jesus! Are you okay to drive? I can grab the kids and come get you.
Matter of fact, stay put, I’m on my way.”

“No, baby. I can drive. I’m fine. Don’t go waking them up and plus, I’ve got blood all over me. They’ve seen enough stuff. I don’t want them to see this, too. I’ll be home in
about twenty. I love you…”

“I love you
, too. Hurry, but take your time…well, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah
.” He smiled then patted his cracked and bleeding lips gingerly with his fingertips. “See you in a minute.” He disconnected the call. Just then a polite, timid tap came at his car window. He looked up and he saw Abdul standing there, smiling. Saint pushed the button and rolled down the window.

“You see why it was a good idea I didn’t let my wife do the shopping tonight?” Saint joked, causing the young man to laugh.

“Yes, I do. You forgot one of your bags in the store…your bread.” He handed it to Saint through the window.

“Ahhh, thank you so much, man. See? I’m always forgetting groceries one way or another. You be safe tonight, alright?”

Abdul nodded, waved and walked away. Saint sat there for a while, his eyes closed. He felt unnerved, his muscles tense. He opened up each wallet and flipped through them.

“Felipe Lopez…twenty-three
.” Saint shook his head in disgust. “Just a damn kid.”

He looked at the other I.D.

“Todd Jackson…twenty-five…makes no fuckin’ sense.” He tossed the wallets on the passenger seat and then, like a lightning bolt, it hit him. He grabbed his cell phone.

“What is it?” came a groggy voice.

“Jagger, man, wake the fuck up. I just got jumped.” He waited a couple of seconds for Jagger to come alive, and then heard a faint, feminine voice in the back.

“Baby, it’s just Saint…go back to sleep.” He heard shuffling as Jagger got to his feet, walked to another room and closed a door behind him.

“Who the fuck did it?”

“Some funky ass bastards, some damn young bucks, novices. The one cat, some dude named Felipe, hits hard as fuck, like he is a damn professional boxer. Knocked the damn wind out of me, I wasn’t prepared. I think you trying to kick my ass in that ring a few months ago, Jagger, saved me from some embarrassing shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remembered what you and Lawrence said about surveillance tapes, and how I can’t fight with my powers out in public. Of course I wouldn’t have anyway, but this guy could
really
fight, and if I had fought the way I did in the streets, as a youth, you’re right…I would have tired out because his shit was almost worse than yours. He is definitely trained. There is no way someone could hit that strong and properly otherwise.”

“Someone sent his ass…” they both said at the exact same time
.

Jagger chuckle
d. “You’re right. See, I told you, Saint. It was only a matter of time. People like us attract this type of shit. Even Lawrence has had to fight off these sorts of bastards. Now, as far as you, you still would’ve won, I can feel that…”

“You’re damn straight!” Saint said, cockiness in his tone
, but he didn’t care. “Felipe could punch, but I still would’ve fucked him up, Bronx style.”

Jagger laughed
. “Yeah, but you would’ve been in worse shape and tempted to do some freaky shit just to get it over with, and it would have been caught on tape. You don’t need that sort of press, and you are too much in the limelight for it to just go away.”

“
True, and no I don’t need that sort of attention. Not to mention, it could be devastating for my family. Agreed. Look, I’m calling an emergency meeting with you and Lawrence tomorrow first thing in the morning, and then you and I will head to the airport to take care of my dad.”

“Cool.”

“I tried to get a read on them, Jagger, but it was hard during all of the commotion and then the cops came, so I had to stop. I’ve got these mothafucka’s wallets, though. I want you to do your shit on ’em for me.”

“Consider it done and Lawrence can do all the research and find out all about these guys for you, just like he did the mole
, and I can go from there.”

“Thank you. See you in the morning, man.” Saint disconnected the call, and started the car to drive home.

Whoever sent your ass is going to wish he was Felipe and Todd by the time I get done with them. That will look like a damn amusement park ride in comparison. And you, whoever you are
… Saint gripped the steering wheel hard, raring to rip the damn thing off as he drove out onto the main drag. …
I can’t wait to tear you the fuck apart…

~***~

Xenia hid her smile. Henry held Isis close in his arms, and the baby girl grinned at him, thumbing his nose. She laughed hysterically as he tickled her fat, bare feet, making her squirm in delight while beads of glistening sand covered her golden skin. Xenia hadn’t been to the park in a while, and it was such a perfect day. The show was over, and the boys loved coming, so she brought them to one of their favorite hangouts. While on her way, Henry called and asked to see her and his grandchildren. She responded that she just so happened to be with them at Juntos Family Park, enjoying a picnic while the boys played Frisbee and Isis enjoyed the swings. He said he was on his way, and before she’d taken more than a few bites out of her chicken salad sandwich, the man pulled up in his shiny blue Cadillac. He pulled on his t-shirt sleeves, as if trying to cover his long line of faded dark tattoos from his days of gangbanging and earning his flesh ribbons.

“A
, baby girl!”

Xenia smiled, and pointed to Isis. He shook his head.

“No, Xenia, I’m talking about
you
.” He grabbed her and wrapped his arms so tight around her she almost lost her breath. He released her and plopped down close. His loud laughter seemed to rock the picnic table. He appeared pleased to just watch his grandsons tossing the red Frisbee back and forth between each other.

“Whoever misses three times in a row will have to clean the other one’s room.” Xenia cracked up. “That’s the bet they have right now.”

“And who put that bet on?” Henry grinned, his brow lifted.

“Dakarai. Of course
, Hassani accepted. He can never say ‘no’ to a challenge and Dakarai spends most of his time plotting and scheming.” She smiled and shook her head.

“Smart boy.” Henry laughed as he grasped Xenia’s hand, holding it. They were qui
et for a while, then shared bits and pieces of their day.

“So you just got back from
downtown?” she asked as she handed him a sandwich.

“I already ate.” He handed it back to her.

“Chicken salad?” She winked at him.

“Now you
know damn well I can’t turn down any chicken salad.” He laughed, snatched the sandwich back, unwrapped it, and took a huge bite out of it. Xenia passed him a diet soda.

“Yeah,
Mama had told me years ago it had been your favorite.”

The man
nodded in agreement, downed the meal in seconds, and waltzed over to the boys.

“Hey, little man!” He smiled at Hassani as he approached him. “Let’s do a triangle.”

“Uh triangle?” Dakarai asked with attitude.

“He is sayin’ we pass it to him after our turn, Day-Day. Henry, I got a lot riding on this.”

Xenia lowered her head and grinned.

“Yeah, I heard
,” Henry said, trying to look serious though the side of his mouth tilted upward.

“Alright, we can
do a triangle, but if you miss, Day-Day’s room becomes my chore. If he loses, he has to leave me alone all night.”

Xenia shook her head as she glanced at Isis who held up her magenta pink pail and turned it over in frustration. She got up, slid off her white flip-flops and
dropped on her bare knees in the soft sand with her daughter to show her how to fill the sand bucket up with her tiny scoop and make a castle, while keenly keeping her ear on the nearby conversation.